Stay
by silentsmile
Summary: A story of two lab rats, and their destiny?
1. Chapter 1

Hi! This is my first Wedges fic, I'd love to know what you think of it so please rate and review - this is going to be spread over several chapters but isn't going to be a long one! Thanks :)

**STAY**

He hated the hollow feeling in his legs, spreading up through his body and into his chest cavity. It must have been mere minutes since she had fled the locker room, tears in her eyes and what was he doing? Standing here like an idiot, waiting for an absolution. Wendy Simms wasn't going to return, not now, not ever. Hodges didn't blame her. She had pursued her dream and he should be happy for her; after all, she was a friend. A friend, he thought, his defences on alert. Why would she keep her Portland move so secret? Perching on the bench, he tried to relay the conversation through his head one more time, knowing that it wouldn't be the last time he did so.

He understood; really, he did. Wendy was probably more that correct in that he would have tried to make her stay. Hodges was used to coming last, trailing his metaphorical tail between his legs like an abandoned puppy. So in essence, he knew whatever attempts he made at persuading her that Vegas was the place to be would be useless. He may have given it one shot, one plead, one heartfelt beg for her to remain. In fact, he felt compelled to say something now, to chase her down the corridor and make some elaborate gesture that would prevent her from getting in the car and leaving the lab forever.

Somehow, his body didn't register the fight or flight instinct. He did neither, his fight was gone and his flight, he was sick of fleeing from anything remotely challenging. Her parting hug had sapped him of his emotional energy, funny considering mere weeks ago he was on a thrilling high after her lips locked with his over trace.

"Come on..." Henry was standing in the doorway, wearing the swimwear Hodges too was modelling. Henry knew. Henry had known for weeks and had kept it from him. Did he really blame Henry for Wendy leaving? He thought back to the date he was due to have, the scenarios that Wendy had conspired to prevent it and the ultimate reward. Wendy saw Henry as a friend, and he should respect that.

"Sure." He croaked, realising that the fugitive tears that had escaped his eyes earlier were probably evident.

It was too late now. Wendy was gone.

Darkness felt strangely apt. The murder weapon had been discovered and Henry was riding on a wave of being the one to find it. Chatter and animation filtered through the doors to the lab and Hodges wished he could somehow shut his ears off from the incessant noise. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine the embrace again. Soon, the emotions cruised through his body, and the ever present nerves in his stomach fluttered wildly.

Behind him, he heard footsteps approaching the lab.

Every response pulsed wildly, as he resisted the temptation to spin round, just in case. Instead, he focused on the element in front of him underneath the scope, and willed himself not to shake so vehemently.

"I'm busy." Curt, and to the point, he threw his arm out, gesturing to the backlog of evidence ready to be analysed. He realised he was fooling no one and tried to breath shallowly, so he could hear whether the owner of the slightly squeaky shoes moved. A minute passed, and Hodges realised whoever it was, wasn't going to move without a conversation.

"Right...okay...If I get fired for not getting this piece of...whatever it is...ana-"

"David, shut up!"

He turned round, quicker than Wendy anticipated, boring his eyes into hers, trying to explore for an explanation, with a million questions, none of them uttered. "I'm sorry, you were just idly chatting and it was driving me crazy."

In her hands was a box, and he could see a frame poking out of the top; a picture of Wendy and her mother. Her fingers were trembling, her face crimson, her eyes puffy.

"Are you okay?" He mentally cursed himself for such a trite question, but strangely nothing else felt apt. "I mean, saying goodbye sucks."

"I've said goodbye to everyone," Wendy whispered, barely audible. The commotion in the lab opposite didn't help, but in a selfish way Hodges was glad the majority of the team were assembled around the desk discussing the case. "I was about to leave."

Hodges took tentative steps towards her, arms spread out.

"Let me take the box to your car, Wendy," He realised his chivalry took her by surprise. "It must be heavy with all your trash."

A small smile spread across her face as he lifted the box out of her arms. He was close enough to smell her once more, the beautiful scent of apples that she wore so well. So often, Hodges realised, he walked around the city dreaming of that aroma. The one time he passed someone who wore the same perfume, he stopped dead in the street. He wanted to gather her into an embrace one more, but it felt inappropriate. Hodges was perceptive enough to realise that when he went to kiss her in the locker room, she had pulled away. He wasn't going to risk the same rejection again.

"Thank you, I think..."

* * *

They walked, muted except for the sound of their own footsteps, to Wendy's vehicle. Hodges, biting his tongue, had a million questions that required a million answers and then some, but held back. He realised it was impossible to tell what Wendy was thinking – the snatched glimpses he got of her forlorn face yielded nothing of note. Finally, they reached the final destination.

"Thank you, David," Wendy spoke, weakly. "I really appreciate it."

It could have meant anything, he thought. The box, the walk, the last goodness knows how many years.

"My pleasure," He signalled her to open the car and when the trunk flew open, he placed the box carefully in the well. "I hope you have a safe journey."

Minutes passed, an intense stare mounted between the two and Hodges had no expectations of what would happen next. He had a list as long as his arm of things he wanted to happen, but he knew it unlikely.

"David, I-" Wendy started, and paused.

"Wendy, don't make this more difficult – You've made your decision." Catching his breath, he realised it sounded churlish. "I mean, you've made a brave decision."

Wendy stood, hands in pockets, an inner defence building. Hodges wanted to take her arms, wrap them around his back and just exert his emotions into her body, an act of diffusion, almost.

"It's a stupid decision," Brusquely, she replied, shoving her hands deeper. "But you know how much being in the field means to me."

"And how much do I mean to you, Wendy?" Words caught in his throat and he instantly regretted it. "Don't answer that."

"I can't answer it, even if I wanted too."

The harsh lights of the parking lot highlighted the small tears forming in her eyes. "I promised myself I wouldn't get upset," she said, sorrowfully. "My entire life revolved around this place, around these people, around you..."

Hodges was speechless, and void of answers. He watched as drops fell from her eyes and he saw her fighting. Finally, he opened his arms and Wendy fled, burying her head into his shoulder and sobbing as quietly as she could. He savoured her smell, the feeling of her hair against his cheek, the feeling of her body close to his. He wondered if she could feel his heart dancing the quick step and he wondered whether this would be the last time he would ever hold her.

"I'm sorry..." she said, muffled by his jumper. "I need to go David, I've got to finish packing the flat up."

She pushed away, using her hands on his chest as leverage and dropped her right arm, briefly touching his hand as she made a move towards the car door. "Keep safe, David."

"Wendy, I-" Stunned, he was silenced.

"I'll write, David. Technology, remember?"

Stepping in the car, she slowly lowered herself down into the seat and pulled the door shut, a shield forcing his emotions out into the open, exposed. She waved weakly, started the engine and pulled out of the space and into the darkness of Las Vegas.

"I'll miss you."

Taking a deep breath, he made his way back into LVPD.


	2. Chapter 2

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Wendy Simms managed to get no more than a couple of miles away from LVPD before the mist descended and she was no longer able to focus on driving. Looking for a vacant parking lot, she pulled her vehicle through the gate and sat with the stereo blasting on an even volume setting, something she had David Hodges to thank for.

The facts were clear, the reality was blurred. She had an opportunity to do something she had desired for a long time, yet her desires were skewered and fighting for the pole position. It was perverse that two of her strongest needs could create such friction, but Wendy was no fool; she realised a lot of things in life were far from easy and she was no stranger to challenging emotions.

Taking stock of the situation, she recognised the fact she was crying and hoped this wasn't a precedence for the future. Crying on the job would be a certain faux pas and all the kind words Catherine Willows had held for Wendy would be obsolete if she couldn't be seen to function adequately.

Fishing her cell from her back pocket, she glared at the time, pushing her mind for a SMS. The picture on the front was of her and Hodges at the convention, pulling stupid faces. It felt like a lifetime ago, and in terms of the escalation of her feelings, it more or less was. Wendy barely used her cell, but at the convention her cell camera was the only thing to hand. She had blue toothed it to Hodges and when she had popped round one evening to bring a DVD over, she realised he had it pinned to his corkboard next to his shopping list. She had pondered over that action many times over the last few months, but hadn't admitted in the dead of night she was usually found fawning over the picture too.

A headlight in the distance distracted her from her pursuit of self destruction and looking up, she realised she could see the illuminated parking lot. It was deserted, bar for herself and a rather beat up Chevy. Straining her red-rimmed eyes, she looked closely – the car was in idle and had been for the past five minutes, and she wondered whether a prospective deal was going to be struck with the owner of the car who had kerb crawled past the lot. She could see a figure in the passenger seat of the car, positioned in a pose not so dissimilar to her own about half a minute ago. Peering further, she felt her heart stop.

Blood splatter adorned the windscreen and Wendy realised the figure was slumped, injured or possibly dead. Flinching as she dialled Brass's cell, she wondered where the mystery car was.

"Wendy?" Brass barked, a tone of concern in his voice.

"Brass, you need to come to the parking lot behind the Nugget, we've got a possible 419"

"Where are you?" He queried, before dispatching police officers into the radio.

"In the lot itself, I was..er...composing myself," Bitterly true, Wendy thought. "I can see splatter on the windscreen"

"Wendy, remain in the car and lock all doors, you hear me?"

Agreeing, Brass confirmed officers were on their way and Wendy sighed with relief, hitting the internal locks and sinking back into her seat. She closed her eyes and wondered whether she would ever get to Portland.

Before she had a chance to evaluate the journey, the shattering of screen woke her from her daydream and her body was peppered with tiny fragments of glass. She had no time to comprehend what was happening until she was looking at a gun, centimetres from her face and a dark figure holding the weapon was screaming incoherently at her. Panic rendered her completely incapable of figuring a way out, but she could hear the sirens in the distance and tried to remain calm. The man was still yelling, nothing which she could decipher and she opened her mouth to try and encourage the man to release the gun.

The last thing she heard was the sound of gunfire echoing throughout her body, before the darkness embraced her in a deathly vice.


	3. Chapter 3

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The squad arrived on the scene no more than three minutes later. Brass had instructed an ambulance to meet them at the parking lot and as he drove in, they were still absent. Pushing buttons, he got through to control room and barked an order for paramedics.

He could see Wendy's vehicle ten metres from the Chevy. The interior light appeared to be off, but Brass figured it would be wiser to pretend not to be there in the face of possible criminal activity.

"Captain, we've got another casualty" One of his officers shouting across the parking lot, and swinging round, Brass realised he was pointing at Wendy's car. "Captain, it's Wendy Simms, gunshot wound to the head, but she's got a pulse..."

Brass didn't comprehend the words spoken, but within seconds he was by the vehicle and pushing the officers to the side.

"Call for paramedics...now..." Jim opened the door, careful not to knock potential evidence and located Wendy's main artery. "Pulse, good" He looked for the gentle raise of her chest and saw she was breathing, albeit shallowly. "She's breathing! Wendy, can you hear me?"

No response. Her eyes were shut and he noticed her right hand was grasping her cell phone. Grabbing his, he punched in Catherine Willow's number. After the third ring she picked up.

"Willows"

"Catherine. It's Jim. We've got a problem. Wendy Simms was at a potential crime scene and is shot, looks serious but not life threatening"

He heard Catherine gasp, and move into her office for privacy.

"We're on our way, Greg's on a 419 behind the Strip and I'll bring Nick with me"

* * *

* * *

Wendy glanced down. She was wearing a floral print dress, and was bare foot. The light hurt her eyes but the scent in the air was liberating. It was the beautiful season between spring and summer and the sun was beating down.

Somewhere, somehow, she knew this was a dream. Floral prints were not part of her wardrobe and she wasn't stupid enough to walk through any park in Vegas without shoes. The sun was innocent, with no hint of sin, and the air was just glorious, not tinged with the alcohol, sex and money.

Ahead of her she could see figures. They blended into the background, and she couldn't make out their faces. They all looked the same, faceless souls here to take her away. On the horizon she could see nothing but fields stretching to an endless point of no return.

"Wendy..." Someone spoke her name, and she spun round, the hem of her dress swishing against the wind.

It was David Hodges. He looked pained, she noticed. He often looked stressed, but this was a different type of expression.

"David" She spoke, softly. Her voice sounded more relaxed in this dream. Less tense, less abrupt.

"Why did you leave me?" He said, his face numb. Wendy was confused; they last conversation they had, he seemed to understand her need to leave, even if she didn't.

"We discussed this, David. The field, my dreams..." She whispered, for it felt wrong to raise your voice in such a tranquil setting. "I have to go to Portland"

"No, Wendy, why are you leaving me? Leaving us? You need to fight"

She stared, quizzically. "Fight?"

"You can't leave us – you need to find your own way back. Nobody can complete the journey apart from you, Wendy. You need to fight, we all need to fight"

Wendy glanced up. The light turned to dark, like an eclipse, and she fell to her knees.

"David!" Grabbing air, Wendy tried to locate her friend. "David! Where are you?" She realised she was sobbing, hot salty tears down her tired face. "I need you...I can't do this alone..."

* * *

* * *

Speed limits need not apply, Hodges thought, as he swung his SUV into the car park and threw himself out of the vehicle. Approaching the lifts, he realised he had absolutely no idea where ICU was.

"Come on...come on!" He barked, the lift stubborn and non-responsive.

He had received the call no more than fifteen minutes ago, whilst he was locating the elements of a fibre Greg had bought in from a 419. Compassionate or not, Brass had ordered several of the CSI's to carry on with business, and the rest, including Hodges, to go to the hospital, if only to collect evidence. Hodges knew he wasn't required to find trace of whoever injured Wendy, but was grateful for the allowance of being here. In hindsight, even if he had been ordered to stay in the lab, he would have left. All he knew was that she was critical but stable, and that she was due to have surgery to remove the bullet from her skull. Any more was hearsay, and despite his tendency to gossip, with matters as close to home as this, it was irrelevant.

The lift lurched into action and within three minutes he was out on the ward and running on his tired feet. He heard Catherine's voice before he saw her and knew he was in the right location.

"David..." Catherine looked broken.

He scanned round the room, and saw the expressions he dreaded. They looked defeated, heartbroken. He wasn't intuitive at the best of times, and they were huddled outside the door in close unison.

"What...what is going on?" He didn't realise he was on the verge of tears until his eyes felt heavy and he felt fit to explode. "What's happening?"

The rest of the team looked at each other, willing the other to speak, before Catherine croaked.

"She crashed..."


	4. Chapter 4

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LVPD was eerily quiet. Wendy glanced round, trying to find a familiar face, but was met with the repetitive beeping of machines as she wandered through the coridoors. Walking into her lab, she noticed the lack of backlog and she noted the fact her belongings were absent from her desk. She considered the fact she may be a victim of a prank, but remembered Hodges had bought her trash to her vehicle before. It still didn't explain the total lack of staff members in the lab.

An inner compulsion drove her to walk towards the down the hall to the morgue. Wendy couldn't place the need, but a voice told her the mystery of the missing CSI's would be solved if she made her way downstairs.

She wasn't completely ignorant to the work that went on downstairs, but as a general rule she wasn't required to work much alongside Doc Robbins and David, and truth be told, Wendy had an visceral fear that one day she may see something that would burn into her retinas and would be inescapable.

Pushing the heavy door, she could see the figures of Ray and Catherine standing over a DB, with Doc Robbins perched uncomfortably on a stool next to them. Wendy recognised that it would signal the need for her to get back to the lab forthwith, but the urgency she felt to solve the conundrum willed her through into the falsely illuminated room.

As she strode, her heels clicking with the floor below, Catherine and Ray remained focused on the body. Doc Robbins was now balancing his head in his hands, the look of resign told on his face.

"Greg and Nick are at the scene" Catherine croaked. "Brass is with Hodges."

Wendy recognised the rarity of Hodges working with Brass, and started to speak before Ray interrupted.

"What was she doing there, Catherine?" He sounded vexed. "She is usually so careful"

"Brass said something about composing herself; she looked pretty frightful when she said goodbye to me earlier"

Wendy felt a surge of familiarity through her body, and walked closer to the body, which she realised was female.

"Has anyone informed her parents?" Doc Robbins spoke, barely audible.

"Jim is onto it. He's trying to get any information out of David; he was the last to see her."

Wendy watched as Catherine lifted her hand to the dead girl and patted her head lightly. "After Warwick, I just thought everyone would be more alert" Catherine said, sorrowfully.

Close enough to touch the CSI's, Wendy felt her pulse race and her breathing laboured. She could see the dead girl had a wealth of dark hair, but her face was obscured. She panicked, wondering whether Sara had met her fate, and with a sudden need, she pushed through.

Catherine and Ray stood to the side, and Doc Robbins turned his face away. None of them met her eyes, despite imploring them for answers.

In front of her, was Wendy Simms. Naked except for her underwear, as if to preserve modesty, she was lying still, an unearthly hue of blue. Scanning furiously, she could see a wound to her head, but couldn't comprehend what she was seeing.

"What...what is this?" She cried, trying to understand. "I'm alive, I'm here!"


	5. Chapter 5

David Hodges had told them everything he knew. The loading of her car, the painful goodbye. They had acted surprised that he, of all people, was capable of feeling a genuine strand of love, however compressed, but he figured the questions would come later.

Hours had passed since Wendy had crashed, and as he sat, motionless on a chair near the hospital bed, he felt his cheeks sodden with tears. He was alone in the room, alone except for the racing thoughts in his head. In the distance, he could hear the faint bleeping of machines, and looking up but without real knowledge of hospital equipment, he noted that at least she was still alive. Wendy had plummeted, the paddles had come out not once but twice, but the main thing was she was still here. Hodges hadn't been granted enough time to think about how life would fail to go on without her before the doctors had bought her back, and he was thankful for that. Now, at least, he could carry on hoping that she would pull through.

"How is she?" Sara Sidle spoke gently, placing a ringed hand on his shoulder.

Choking back his pain, Hodges realised he had been sitting, staring blankly.

"She's critical but stable" He croaked, trying to form words coherently. "What was she doing Sara?"

Sara came and sat down on the adjacent seat, eyes never leaving his slumped figure. She could see the grief etched sorely across his tired face.

Questions had been asked but few answers were known. Sara recognised that words were of little comfort, besides.

"She rang Brass to call in the body; something about composing herself"

Bitterly, Hodges gave reason to blame himself. "It's my fault"

"David, you know goodbyes are hard. How did you feel when you left to come to Vegas?"

"I was relieved" He scoffed, churlishly.

"You know how well loved Wendy is here" She offered an attempt to alleviate his guilt. "I will come back later, Hodges, Nick is over at the lab processing her car and he needs a hand"

Soberly, Hodges nodded, listened as Sara walked out of the room and returned his gaze back to Wendy. She looked perversely peaceful; a sleeping doll void of trouble. Her hand felt warm in his grasp, and he realised when he opened his own, that cramp had set in.

A life without Wendy in the lab was hard enough to fathom; her beautiful face radiated throughout LYPD and he adored her determination to the job. He could barely imagine how his world would revolve around without her there beside him, and felt foolish for taking her presence for granted in the past.

But a life without Wendy at all would leave him destroyed. An existence without knowing she was around, regardless of distance and time, was no world he wanted to be privy too. Hodges had, for too long, absorbed himself in his job, in his hobbies, and had reluctantly accepted that relationships were not for the socially inept. But Wendy had granted him a lifeline, a chance, however fleeting. Her words, and her delicious kiss had awakened his soul from the monotony his life had become.

Stroking her hand, he understood he had no experience. A fling at college with an older woman who more or less abused his carnal knowledge was hardly anything noteworthy, and since then, he had lived alone. He realised Wendy would have far better options than he, and the last few months he had thought of little else. The words she had spoken when she explained that Henry should be everything she wanted, but wasn't, had resonated with him. It was at that moment he realised his affection and desires were perhaps not so one sided. But she had left him, there was no escaping that fact. The promises of keeping in touch were based solely on trust, but he hadn't yet had time to get used to it.

Gathering her fingers and intertwining them with his, he felt the gentle pull of her reflexes against his own and glanced up, searching her face for any sign of life. Slowly, and almost childlike, her eyelids fluttered, gently at first, and more hurried after, before opening her eyes.

In a state of disbelief, Hodges leant over her body, careful not to blur her vision but at the same time eager to see whether she really was awakening. Gingerly, her eyelids peeled back and he watched her pupils dilate.

"Wendy, oh jeez, you're awake" He exclaimed, squeezing her hand. He watched as she tried to form words, unsuccessfully at first, gasping air as she went through the motions.

"David..." She whispered. "Thank god it's you..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all the lovely comments so far :)**

Hours of surgery later, Hodges found himself in a similar position. The conversation the day before had been brief, too brief, before Wendy had fallen into a deep sleep. On the operating table, the surgeons had removed most fragments from the bullet, but had made the executive decision to leave those buried deep into the brain. Hodges was content in the knowledge the medical staff knew what they were doing, and neither he or the others decided to question, including Wendy's sister, who was on route from Portland.

Greg Sanders had taken what was left of the bullet to ballistics, but no one was hopeful. Everyone was presuming Wendy had seen the man who had shot her so ruthlessly, but Hodges wondered whether the damage to her brain, however slight, would impact her memory enough to render her knowledge useless. The doctors had mentioned in passing that it may be days before Wendy was fit enough to talk at any kind of length, but Hodges knew Jim Brass was also itching to try and track down the gunman.

Wendy was oscillating between seemingly contented rest and fleeting moments of wakefulness. Hodges had tried to communicate with her at such moments but she was groggy from the anaesthetic and dosed up on medication. He understood that it was a waiting game, and considering how long he had waited in the past, he was happy to be patient.

"Fancy a coffee?"

Nick Stokes was standing broadly at the door frame. Hodges had realised the communication and general atmosphere between himself and the rest of the staff had improved massively since Wendy's attack. He wondered whether it was pity; pity that he was so hapless in his pursuit of her, or whether it was compassion considering the events of the past 72 hours. It was painfully obvious how Hodges felt for his colleague, both in the years and months preceding, and more indisputable now.

"That...that would be grand" Hodges replied, exhausted. He glanced to the sleeping Wendy, who looked blissfully unaware of the drama surrounding her and wished his snatched moments of rest had yielded more peace. "I don't like leaving her."

"I just spoke with her doctor; she's improving all the time. Wendy will be fine for 30 minutes, Hodges. You look like you need a break, you're beat."

Hodges nodded his head reluctantly and rose from the plastic, grossly uncomfortable seat, squeezing Wendy's hand as he stood.

"I'll see you in a bit." He whispered, ignoring for a second that Nick was staring at him, and made his way through the room. "Let's go and get some of that muddy water they call coffee."

* * *

* * *

"Have you slept?" Nick asked, certain of the answer.

Hodges stirred the packet of sugar into the scalding hot coffee and attempted to look more alert.

"I grab a couple of hours here and there..." He replied, soberly. "The only time prolonged period of time I've spent in a hospital was having my tonsils out and I was on the comfortable option. I'm going to send Wendy a bill for a chiropractor when she's up and about."

Nick laughed, bringing his cup up to his lips and taking a mouthful of liquid. "God, this really is shit coffee."

"What would you know about good coffee, you drink that instant crap."

"We've got no hits on the fragmented bullet," Nick replied, changing the subject. "Greg's got Wendy's car in the lab; I think he's hoping the gunman left a print on the car door. Has Wendy mentioned anything about that night?"

Hodges shook his head, crushing the hope.

"She barely registers I'm there; I get the occasional 'Hello' and 'Where am I?' before she falls back to sleep."

"Probably for the best," Nick replied, knowingly. "She'll come round soon enough."

"I hope so," Hodges took a sip of coffee and grimaced. "I'm afraid of how she'll feel when it dawns on her."

"She's strong y'know; she'll cope with this better than you think."

"I don't know what I think," Hodges admitted, troubled. "She didn't tell me about Portland until she was due to leave."

"Wendy did what she thought was right at the time. It must have been hard, Hodges – don't take that away from her." Nick advised. "I doubt she did it to hurt you."

"I think what annoyed me..." Hodges paused whilst contemplating. "...was that I was the last to know. We've been through so much, and I felt as if she had given up on me like most people do. I thought she was different to the rest."

Nick looked at his colleague, astonished at his openness. He opened his mouth to extend a platitude, but Hodges interrupted.

"I feel like I'm getting used to her being back, which is perverse because I never became acquainted with her leaving, and I am worried about my feelings."

He felt agitated, probably through lack of sleep, and looked blankly at the coffee.

"Try and separate your feelings." Nick offered. "Just concentrate on being there for her when she recovers. Be a friend, be supportive, offer help, but don't try and complicate things. Life is going to be complicated enough for her now."

Hodges nodded in agreement.

"Thanks Nick," He stood up, smiling faintly. "I'm gonna get back."

–

Hodges was relieved to hear the machinery beeping in rhythm when got closer to Wendy's room. The medics had reassured himself and the team that she was no longer critical, which he took to mean the likelihood of anything untoward happening was slim, but his heart still refused to beat in time as he approached the room.

Passing a female medic dressed in blue scrubs as he approached the door, he noticed the young woman smile at him as he crossed her path. He offered her grin back, feeling encouraged by his chat with Nick.

Walking into the room, he approached the chair to check his cell.

"Hey..." Wendy spoke, weakly. "You were gone, but the doctor said you'd gone to get coffee with Nick"

Hodges spun round, exhilarated.

"Yeah, we had a chat, y'know," He beamed, moving towards the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Rubbish."

"You look rubbish too." He joked, grabbing her hand. "But then, we all would if we were laid up in bed."

"Thanks, David!" She allowed a playful smirk spread over her face. "I suppose this is the longest conversation we've had for a while?"

"Affirmative. You've been pretty out of it."

"God, what a mess," She pondered out loud. "Is my sister on her way?"

"She'll be here in about an hour. Catherine has been speaking to her, updating her etc."

"That's a relief," Wendy relaxed, and squeezed his hand. "I was so scared."

Hodges listened closely, wondering whether she would offer information.

"What were you doing there, anyway?"

Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but paused. Looking away, he noticed she was struggling with either her words, or her emotions; perhaps both. "Sorry, I shouldn't ask probing questions when you feel like shit."

"No, it's okay," She opened her eyes once more, looking directly at him. "I...I was about to drive up. But I left the lab, and I felt as if my heart was breaking."

Hodges decided now, if ever, was the moment to be silent.

"Vegas is all I've known for what feels like a lifetime, and to be honest, I'm scared of change. I feel safe here." She laughed bitterly. "Despite what happened, I still do. I have friends here, a family, and even though I accepted the job I've always wanted, I felt empty."

She stopped, trying to compose herself.

"I realised..." Wendy continued to stare intensely at Hodges, and lifted her free hand onto his. "My life would be incomplete without you all. You, especially, David. The thing is, I hate you."

He continued to look at her, but flinched.

No, really, I do. You annoy me. You frustrate me. You piss me off with your inside knowledge of everything that goes on at the lab because you're such a gossip. You are completely socially inept sometimes and you never know when to shut up."

"Tha-"

"I hate that I love you. I hate that I grew up thinking I'd meet a rich lawyer or doctor and instead I decided to fall in love with a suck up trace technician..."


	7. Chapter 7

**I think this is the last chapter! Thanks for all the reviews so far, I may do a little epilogue when I have time! R x**

The coolness of the porcelain felt blissful upon his reddening skin. The toilets provided him with the sense of solitude if only momentarily before someone would need to use the cubical and he would be forced to forfeit his hope of peace.

After that, Hodges didn't know. He had fled the room that encased Wendy, not daring to look back as he paced out with her hoarse apologies ringing in his ears. Nurses had camped in there instead, fearing she was having a "moment" after waking and were ready with syringes of sedatives. At least, Hodges thought bitterly, it would give him a chance to try and think.

Wendy's words had set an incredibly convoluted chain of events in his head. He understood well that anaesthesia was both powerful and often rendered the recipient confused and disorientated. Replaying the conversation in his head, Hodges tried to select moments when he felt Wendy was without her wits, but yielded no results. He didn't know the power behind the medicine enough to know whether she was unable to think coherently, or even if she was aware of what she was saying.

He heard the door swing into the bathroom and made the choice to remain silent and still. He had decided to pretend the scene had never happened, and would return to the room as if the last half hour had disappeared in the ether, not to be seen or heard of again. It meant he would refuse point blank to be encouraged by her display and be gallantly unscathed from the bitterness she had provided alongside the words he had long dreamt of hearing.

After a while, the man had relieved himself and Hodges was left alone again. He had long become accustomed to isolation from others, at least entirely emotionally if not physically too. The very thought that someone could see past his idiocy, to which he freely but uncomfortably could admit too, penetrated a part of his soul and released a wash of avidity he was not acquainted with.

Hodges then realised he was allowing a small sliver of hope enter the recesses of his mind and shut it off speedily. Saying farewell to the bathroom furniture that had enabled him to catch his breath, he paced out of the cubicle and into the real world.

* * *

* * *

It took every ounce of strength in her fragile body to slam her hands down by the side of her body in frustration.

She had managed to convince the nurses to forgo the sedatives for a glass of water. Wendy had explained weakly how she had woken up from a bad dream and fortunately they had bought the tale laced with lies, even if the senior looked at her quizzically, knowing that Hodges had been in the room a few seconds before.

The water had quelled her thirst and soothed her sore throat, presumably from the tube inserted into her throat during surgery. Now she was left with a pounding headache, brought on by the immense shame and pain she could only attribute to Hodges speeding out of the room once she had told him how she had felt. Wendy didn't blame him; her tact had been non-existent and after all, she thought abruptly, he may simply not feel the same way.

But it had taken an eternal inner fight for her to reveal the reality of her feelings. She had sat, like a bird nesting eggs, for what felt like a lifetime. It had taken her through a wide range of emotions – starting at fear, delivering realisation and ending in remorse when she realised her declaration had been pathetic at best. How could she love someone she hated, and at the same time, how could she admit it to that person? Her turmoil felt never ending, and could only be alleviated if Hodges was to return to the room, either to hear an apology or to simply state he wasn't interested. If the latter was the case, Wendy would arrive in Portland, sooner rather than later, knowing at least she had tried; badly, but she had tried. If he stayed, listened to her trying to work out her thoughts on the spot, maybe things would be different.

Struggling, Wendy heard the door open slightly, and a shoe squeaking as it made contact with the linoleum floor. She paused, daring not to breathe as the figure, unknown, continued through the door frame and into the room.

"Wendy..."

As she fought the urge to inhale, the simplicity of her name on his lips forced her to exhale fully. As he took her hand in his, the tension exited her body almost immediately and she felt herself soften. Before he could speak, she interrupted.

"I'm so sorry," Tears formed in her eyes and she felt herself weeping before she had time to take stock. "I was tactless and thoughtless and I'm a great big idiot."

"You're right," Hodges spoke calmly. "You're an idiot and I'm an idiot for coming back."

Wendy felt her body stiffen again, unsure of what was to come next.

"I couldn't leave you lying here by yourself," She felt marginally comforted by his words for a fleeting second. "I figured you owed me an apology and I thought it prudent to receive one before I left."

"Oh David," She croaked, between sobs. "This is so hard for me."

"Hard for you? You've got it off your chest; I'm the one sitting on a toilet wondering whether to walk straight out or to tell you how I feel."

"How do you feel?" Wendy asked, picking up on his words.

"I don't know," He barked, unable to coherently form his emotions into words. "I thought I knew, and then I didn't, and now I do, I think."

"Sounds confusing," She replied, softly. "And not too dissimilar to how I felt, and feel right now."

"Look, Wendy," He squeezed her hand gently, and she feared the worst despite his temper disappearing. "You've been a ray of sunshine in my life for...how long?"

"Years," She offered quickly. "Too many, too few."

"Years, then." He paused, assimilating. "I have thought of you before I start work, during work and long after I finished. I have watched your diligence to your job, your stubbornness, your fight and your weaknesses. I know more about you than I know about myself and I have spent hours, days and weeks pretending to myself that being friends is fine."

"But it isn't." She punctuated, and regretted instantly.

"Let me finish." He pleaded. "I have seen you flirt with Henry. I have seen you hug Nick and Greg and for a short while I thought you had some kind of girlcrush on Grissom. I have stood on the sidelines, offered my help, insulted you readily and been there for you when the shit hit the fan. When you said you were leaving to go to Portland, I understood. I knew how much it meant to be offered the job in the field and no one, least of all me, should take that away from you. But it hurt; it hurt that you thought of leaving Vegas, and me, and it hurt that I was the last to know."

"Do you realise," Wendy started, trying to explore her mind for the appropriate words. "Do you realise that you were the last to know because I couldn't face telling you before? I couldn't face the thought of breaking down in front of you and telling you how I felt. I thought it I left it as late as possible, I would be dehumanised from the situation and I would be so numb that all I could say was goodbye. That kiss, god I have replayed that in my mind. Then things seemed to go clinical again. Work took precedence and things returned to normal. When I said I was leaving, I realised things were not back to normal; you tried to kiss me and by then it was too late. I had struggled with how I felt, I loved you when I kissed you, I loved you when I went to leave and I love you now, but I thought you didn't feel the same way."

Hodges sighed a deep sense of regret.

"Wendy, you are so beautiful," He allowed his defences down and stroked her sodden cheek. "I spent nights thinking of how you wore you hair up, when you had it down, the way you had your make up, the way you smelt. I tortured myself at times. Yes – work took precedence; because I'd never known any different. You were, and are the first person who has awakened my senses. I hid it because I thought you didn't feel the same way, and you are right – who would want to fall in love with a suck up trace technician with absolutely no social skills..."

"I didn't mean it David, I was confused."

"...and in that toilet, I was going to pretend the conversation never happened. I was going to walk away from you, the hospital, us, in favour of keeping my emotions in tact and not being hurt. I can't continue to run scared like a coward from life. I can't hole myself up in the lab and fear the world outside. I can't fear the thought of being with someone for the rest of eternity. I realised a long time ago that I loved you, Wendy, and I have denied it for far too long, trying to protect myself and mainly you..."

When Hodges stopped talking, he realised he had been staring into her eyes, but not noticed how hard she had been crying. Her cheeks were saturated with tears, but she had a curious smile on her face. Lifting his hand to her hair, he ran his fingers through the knots gently, and felt for the nape of her neck. Pulling her inch by inch to him, he felt her shallow breath on his face before he found hers. As their mouths parted and they kissed tenderly, he could feel the tears mingle with her lips, dry to the touch but sweet to the taste.

"I have loved you a long, long time, Wendy" He declared, before embracing in a delicate lock of bodies.


End file.
